


Absolution in Digression

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey, Merry (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Hand Jobs, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-17
Updated: 2008-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 00:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/509546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gara tends to get lost in his own world, a world full of emotional pain. Kyo loses himself in a world where the physical overrides the emotional. Together, can they find a way to make what they do right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolution in Digression

**Author's Note:**

> For prompt_rotation prompt 0004: Anguish  
> Song: "The Sky is Falling" by the Oktober People

Anguish... such a forbidden concept. I suppose, in a way, that is how I have to describe my entire life. Fear that what I've done isn't enough. Realization that I could end everything in a single action, as fast as a needle pricks or a glistening blade strikes. Knowing that I'm but a meaningless spek in reality.

The truest form of torment is that which you place upon yourself. It's the kind that wraps you in its arms and holds on tight for the rest of eternity. It's the type that you can't shake no matter how hard you try, because it's pointless to try to place your heart back where it belongs when it is lying trodden in the dust.

But then, I only torment myself in that manner. A sacrificial belief that everything I yearn for isn't meant for me. But do I try? Never... not for that. Not for what I want most in my life. Only everything below that. Life shouldn't be so perfectly sculpted that you always get what you want. I guess I run by the opinion that if I give myself my own agony, no one else will inflict it upon me. And in a way... it works. Every time I give in and allow myself this emotionally hollow existence, I find myself a better man on the other side.

Point A to point Z, skipping everything but K. The shortest path is a straight line... but the more meaningful one varies just the slightest amount. Just like every thought has a moment where it's stuck with another one, connected and pulled along by some invisible string. Every momentary image pulls up a dozen from the past. Life - so simple... so complex.

An ephemeral recollection - fleeing, falling... caught in the web I've so carefully woven beneath it. I take the time to examine it, bending and reshaping it until it suits my needs, until it becomes the perfect memory. A look that never really happened the way I see it now. A touch that means more to me than it ever meant in reality. A few briefly exchanged words, blooming into undying obsession.

It's been three years... do you still remember me? Am I always on the edge of your memory as you are on mine? Or is it only me who has lost the capacity to find reality? I still remember the heat of your body pressed so tightly against mine, the way your lips felt as I assaulted them in the most lurid of ways. I still remember the shock in your eyes as I pulled away. But more than all of that, I remember how I fled, how I couldn't even hold the ground that I was standing on when confronted by your overflowing eyes.

So many have called you a soulless demon, but what I saw was far from that. Rather I saw the man beneath - the one who felt so out of place and lost because of what I'd done. I'd shattered your reality, forcing my own into its place. So unfair of me. That moment will forever haunt me. It stays in my dreams and on the edge of every thought, clinging to me as if to punish me for a stolen taste of what I shouldn't even want.

But I do... I want you like I've never wanted anyone or anything in my life. The desire is buried so deep within me that I couldn't escape it even if I wanted to. And really... I don't want to stop my feelings toward you. I just want absolution from them. Like a tethered balloon, striving with every molecule to be freed from where it hangs in mid-air.

Something crumples and I realize it's the small scrap of paper that I'm holding. I've crushed it under the weight of my thoughts, an absent-minded action. Will the paper forgive me? I smooth it back out, the numbers glaring up at me from the many little hills and valleys I've created though them. A single word, neatly scrawled above the sloppy digits - _Kyo_. I don't even remember where I got the paper from. But surely the numbers are to your phone.

I guess this is how I got lost in all of these memories again, pulled into the middle rather than sitting on the edge like I have been for all these years. I wonder if I'd even reach you if I dialed them. Maybe you've forgotten my transgression. Maybe it doesn't haunt you like it does me. Or maybe there was something more behind those eyes than just simple surprise.

It's really that last thought that drives me to pick up the phone and begin to press in each number. One after another, a string - meaningless by themselves, but put together, so much more. I hesitate over the last one, my eyes closed and my finger poised. It seems to take forever for my hand to descend, for the key pad to be pushed and the soft ringing to begin on the other end.

I'm nearly breathless by the time the line is picked up, my thoughts in utter turmoil. What do I say? Where do I even begin? I can't even explain why I have this number.

"Hello?"

I'm silent for far too long, only my breath coming across the line... and then I just blurt it out, praying I'm right. "Listen... if this isn't who I think it is - I'm sorry. But if it is... I'm still sorry. Three years ago, what I did - I had no right to do it. Forgive me."

Now it's his turn for silence. It stretches out and then he cuts it clean through, his voice but a whisper. "Gara?"

I stop breathing, entirely and completely. My eyes slide closed. How could he possibly know just from that little amount of information? He's dwelled on it, just as I have. That has to be it. I take in a lung-full of air and then sigh softly. "Yes."

"We need to talk... not like this. Meet me outside your apartment in five minutes."

I start to respond, to tell him I can't because I'm not home. But he hangs up before I can even take the needed breath to spill out my words. It'd have been a lie anyway. After all, I'm sitting alone in my living room, making this call. I can't help but dread why he's coming to speak with me. What does he want? An end, maybe. That's all I can think of.

My movements are slow as I pull my jacket and shoes on. I'm even more sluggish as I leave my apartment behind, taking the stairs at a pace almost fit for a snail. When I open the fire door to slip out onto the street, I'm greeted by the smell and sound of the city. I make my way to the front of the complex and stand at the corner, my hands in my pockets and my gaze fixed on the concrete beneath my feet. I don't want to look for him. If I do, he won't come.

I only stand there for a few moments before the pressure of a hand on the small of my back gains my attention. His voice is in my ear, just as seductively sweet as I remember it being before. "Your place or mine?"

I lick slightly at my lips, still afraid to look up from the pavement. "Mine..." I almost have to choke out the reply.

He applies just enough pressure to move me toward the entrance of the building. Once we're inside, he guides me to the elevator and we step inside. It's he who presses the key for my floor and that shocks me out of my stupor. I stare at his hand as it caresses the button and then falls away, coming to rest against his toned thigh. My eyes follow his lithe figure all the way up to his eyes.

You consume me.

I gasp softly at what I find there. A fire dances in them that I never thought I'd ever see again, especially not directed toward me. His lips curve in what might be a smile just as the doors slide open. We spill out onto my floor and he takes the lead, going directly to my door.

It's like a game.

I can't quite decide why he's doing all the leading and I'm doing all the following. As I slip my key into the lock, I almost feel as though he should have been the one to do it. It's eerie how he knows so much. I'm questioning it, but yet... it doesn't really matter why he knows.

This means something.

I'm grasping at straws. I let my thoughts end there, abruptly focusing only on getting my shoes and jacket off once we're inside. He closes the door behind us, as though this is his home rather than mine. I lean up just as he places his shoes neatly next to mine. I stare down at the slightly smaller pair, my eyes glittering in the semi-darkness.

I don't even think to turn on a light. Neither of us would want it anyway. I turn and start toward the living room, but he catches my arm and pushes me back against the wall. And just like that, his mouth is pressed over mine and he's devouring my very soul. He's hungry, impatient... and I can hardly blame him.

Some talking this is....

I let him press me harder against the wall as I melt into his kiss. I allow myself to return his actions, mirroring the radiating lust I can feel from him. I wrap one arm around his waist and slip my free hand into his blonde hair, holding him in place as I deepen everything, desperation overcoming rational thought.

My tongue entwines with his as his hands slide down my sides, one coming to rest on my hip, the other slipping between us and brushing over my thigh. I push myself toward him, not caring how much this makes me look like a whore. He started it this time... and I want to finish it. I _need_ to finish it.

Absolution in digression... is this my forgiveness?

His body presses harder against mine and then he's cupping me through my jeans, fondling my flaccid length. A startled sound departs my body and he sinks his teeth into my lower lip, breaking the flesh and tasting my blood. He laps at me - so much like a hungry kitten. I don't protest. I couldn't even if I wanted to.

He pulls away as soon as I begin to harden beneath his touch. He leads me with one finger through my belt loop, gently tugging me down the hallway and into my bedroom. He's such a startling contrast - harsh one moment and so tender the next.

I let him press me into my own mattress, allow his hands to unclothe me. I can't even think about this the right way anymore. Why is he doing this? Does it even matter? I close my eyes and pray that I haven't lost touch with reality so far that I'm imagining this.

When I open them again, he's staring down at me, his tongue slowly tracing across the place in his lip where so many piercings used to be. I miss those. I'd have wanted to taste them. I'm drawn to the metal decorating his ears and I find myself lost in it. He leans down to kiss me and I move aside, leaning up faster and licking across the shining mass. I take the lowest one into my mouth and suck on it, tugging lightly at the flesh it remains connected to. His breath hitches and then he moans low in my ear.

I pull harder and he moves fast, pushing my thighs apart and pressing his cock at my entrance. I can feel the rubber covering him and I wonder for a moment just how much I zoned out. When he pushes into me, it doesn't even hurt. It's like he's meant to be there... a part of me. My hands find his hair and I pull violently on it, letting go of his earring at the very last second.

He moans louder than I even thought possible. My own hardness twitches in response, my entire body enjoying his attention. The harder I tug on his hair, the more forceful each of his thrusts into me is. I let go and immediately place my hands on his chest, dragging my short nails down. I draw his blood and he cries out, stiffening above me. For a moment I think he's cum, but then I know better as he changes my position, his hands grasping my thighs hard enough to bruise.

The new angle puts me at just the right distance away to continue my beautiful decoration of his body. I weave an intricate pattern over his flesh, avoiding every tattoo with the utmost care. His blood runs thick down his chest and I can't keep back my thoughts any longer.

"Absolve me..."

His next thrust hits my prostate dead on and I scream like I've never done before. He stills inside of me and from under the heavy veil of pleasure, I can feel him releasing within me. My cock throbs, neglected and needy between us. I try to move against him, wanting just enough friction to bring me over the edge. But he moves away, pulling out of me and lying back on the bed.

I lay there, ashamed that what he gave me wasn't enough and too embarrassed to find what I need with myself.

A few minutes pass and then his fingers wrap around my length and he slides a condom over me. He doesn't smile. In fact, he doesn't give away any emotion. He just straddles me, his hand holding my erection still, and then he impales himself on me.

A scream rips free of this throat and he arches his back almost impossibly. Automatically, my hands come to his thighs and I stroke them softly. He slowly relaxes and then his hands press against my chest. His lips meet mine once more and I kiss him feverishly, wanting so much for this to go on forever.

He begins to move, drawing himself up off of my cock and then seating himself back down on it. Each time the action repeats, I get a little closer to my goal. I can feel my orgasm building, pulsing... it wants to wash over me, but I won't let it yet.

Higher... I need to climb higher.

He pushes himself away from me, my cock still buried inside of him, and he leans back, arching until his hands touch the bed between my calves. He pushes up, his muscles flexing under the strain as he pulls himself almost free of my cock. And then he slams back down, letting out the most erotic cry. I watch him, fascination overriding my need to cum.

He grows hard again - his erection jutting up so invitingly from his body. I reach out and wrap my hand around him, just holding my hand there as he moves himself. The feel of his silky skin sliding in and out of my palm is almost enough to do me in. He clamps down around me, his movements becoming more and more rushed.

It's almost unbearable - the tight warmth of his body around me. And then it is too much. I can only vaguely hear his words as they push through my consciousness.

"This is your absolution."

His release coats my fingers as he falls down on me one last time. I spill myself inside him, his name pouring from my lips.

And then he's pulled away again, but this time he lowers himself gingerly down beside me and wraps his shaking form around me. I gather him into my arms and hold him close.

I have so much I want to ask, so much I need to clarify. But it can wait. Right now, all I truly want is to hold him like this - so close, so... loving.

**The End**  



End file.
